


A Vivid Imagination

by daftalchemist



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Tentacle Sex, hypothetical dommy Carlos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:18:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daftalchemist/pseuds/daftalchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil imagines what it would be like to be Carlos' boyfriend</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Vivid Imagination

**Author's Note:**

> Beta credit to sub3rduck even though he didn't actually have to suggest anything because I DIDN'T FUCK ANYTHING UP FOR ONCE
> 
> Short fic is short, but still very hot

Cecil's intentions had started out innocently enough. Carlos had wanted to know about the temporal loops that often plagued isolated portions of Night Vale; Cecil knew everything about the temporal loops that occurred in Night Vale. In fact, Cecil was the expert on _everything_ that happened in Night Vale, as it just so happened. No one knew _how_ he knew everything there was to know about the town, but they knew he did. They'd met at the Arby's because the Subway was infested with flesh-eating termites, and they still hadn't found fully edible wheat-free substitutes for all their breads yet. Carlos had removed his lab coat and hung it on his chair, constantly forgetting to take into account the relentless desert sun when dressing himself each morning. And when he had finally become exasperated enough at how little there was to learn about the temporal loops (they happened, they were isolated, they trapped people within them, there was no known way to get rid of them), he left in such a annoyed hurry that he forgot the lab coat.

Cecil had fully intended to return the lab coat to him, but he had work, and then there was that sleep thing to attempt to do, and some errands, and things just kept piling up like that. There was no time to take the coat to Carlos, and Carlos continued to stubbornly ignore Cecil's calls to arrange a meeting to pick it up. It probably didn't help that Cecil called them dates in the voice mails he left. The word “date” seemed to mean something different to people who didn't live in Night Vale; like some sort of horrific and terrible meeting of two people where they loathed each other for an hour, perhaps?

Eventually Cecil just accepted that he was the proud owner of a slightly used lab coat, because it was obvious that Carlos either didn't notice it was missing or simply didn't care. Perhaps he had many more like it and could go without one more, or perhaps he had left it on purpose so that Cecil would always have a small piece of Carlos with him.

Whatever the case, it became a well-loved fixture in Cecil's apartment. At first he just hung it on his coat rack, happy to see it there each day, as though Carlos was secretly living with him and not doing a particularly good job about keeping it secret. But then Cecil started using it as a blanket when he curled up on the couch for some late night television after work, or wearing it when the chill of the evening settled in. It was wonderful to be wrapped in Carlos' warmth, in his smell; the distinctive scent of his natural musk, shampoo, deodorant, and whatever that weird chemical scent was.

It was so easy for Cecil to pretend it was actually Carlos wrapping his arms around him, snuggling in close to his neck, draping himself lovingly over Cecil's body as they snuggled on the couch, kissing lazily as the incessant static from the television droned on in the background. Carlos would let Cecil run his fingers through his perfect hair because Carlos would like having his hair touched and played with, and he would especially like things that made Cecil happy because that was how boyfriends felt about each other. Cecil whimpered and snaked a hand beneath the coat to palm at himself. The thought of being Carlos' boyfriend was _terribly_ exciting.

They would go for walks together, just to see the strange and constantly shifting beauty of Night Vale, and Cecil would keep Carlos away from the dog park, because Carlos was a brilliant scientist who would want to investigate things like that, and he would need someone level-headed to keep his curiosity in check around dangerous things.

His tightly coiled tentacles unfurled, pressing anxiously against his jeans in an attempt to reach his fingers, and Cecil quickly unbuttoned and pushed them down around his knees. He hissed in pleasure as he wrapped a hand around the writhing tendrils beneath the lab coat, the fabric providing just enough friction to counterbalance the lubricious fluid seeping from them, drenching his stomach and thighs. He gave a soft tug and whined. It was fantastic, the warmth enveloping him, the smell of Carlos all around him, the imagined sensation of Carlos gripping him tightly instead of the reality of Cecil's own hand.

Carlos would do this for him after they had their weekly date night at Big Rico's, because Cecil would get overwhelmingly agitated by Steve Carlsburg's presence there, so much so that he would almost forget to eat his mandatory slice of pizza. And Carlos would attempt to distract him by tracing the finely detailed patterns of his tattoos, but not even the slight tickling feeling would quell the rage he felt for _Steve_ , and further relaxation would be required.

Cecil moaned as he rolled onto his stomach, pinning the lab coat beneath him as he pressed his cheek into his couch cushion, tilting his hips upwards as his larger tentacles manifested from his torso and slithered along his ass, dipping into his cleft.

Carlos would pretend to be jealous, pinning Cecil to the wall the moment they got home, arm twisted behind his back, a handful of his hair trapped in Carlos' grasp. Why did _Steve Carlsburg_ get all his attention at dinner again? What did _Steve_ have that Carlos didn't? Nothing, of course. Carlos was perfect and beautiful and would be grinding his hips against Cecil's ass, tearing pleading whimpers from his lips. A threat; a promise.

Cecil keened as he roughly thrust a tentacle into himself, meeting with no real resistance as he expanded to fit the the thick appendage. Carlos would take him just as roughly, wrenching Cecil's attention back to himself as he groaned with each fervent thrust. And Cecil would cry out in pleasure, much as he was currently doing as he pressed his hips back against his own tentacle and fisted his aching tendrils through perfect Carlos' equally perfect lab coat. Carlos wouldn't actually be angry and jealous, of course. Carlos would never have to be jealous of anyone because he had Cecil's love whether he accepted it or not, and he always would. But it would be fun to pretend that he was, that he would need to show Cecil why he had chosen to be with Carlos as the tension in his groin coiled violently, and his mind melted away into a thick haze of pleasure, and he screamed— _actually_ screamed—as his body spasmed around his tentacle and his hand and couch were coated in a thick, black liquid.

Cecil slumped onto his side as his tentacles receded, and he pulled the lab coat away from his groin, regretting his actions as he assessed the horrific black stain on the beautiful white coat. He'd have to find a way to wash the stain out, he knew, because this wasn't going to be a one-time event.

 _God_ it was fun to pretend.


End file.
